


feels like home

by the_problem_with_stardust



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Battle of Sodden Hill, Pre-Relationship, theyre getting there tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_problem_with_stardust/pseuds/the_problem_with_stardust
Summary: After Sodden, Yennefer is left injured and drained. Luckily Triss is there to help.
Relationships: Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Kudos: 11
Collections: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo





	feels like home

**Author's Note:**

> written for the nose/forehead kisses square of my @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo!!

It is quiet when Yennefer wakes. Smoke hangs thick in the air and she can feel the clammy chill of mud seeping into her dress. She opens her eyes and is met with the flat grey of nothingness. It reminds her of a blizzard, many years ago, that blocked the view of the house from the barn. Where, in a fit of hypothermic imagination, she could pretend her parents – her captors – had vanished off the map.

“Yennefer?” a voice calls out and it takes her several moments to recognize it as Triss.

She tries to make noise, but her throat feels ruined. _What happened?_ She can’t remember much beyond the halls of Aretuza and making the decision to fight.

“You single-handedly destroyed a significant number of Nilfgaard’s forces.”

Yennefer relaxes. At least they can still communicate with their minds. Then she frowns and a memory of Triss holding off hundreds of soldiers with her nasty plants surfaces.

Triss laughs, a jarringly bright sound for a battlefield. “Yes, but you burned them all to ash.”

There is a sound, like the flaming cannons from earlier. And maybe Yennefer is getting some of her memory back. But Triss stiffens beside her, tension clear in the way she’s cradling Yennefer’s hands.

“We need to go,” she says, and then they’re tumbling through a portal and onto a rough wooden floor.

It takes far too long for Yennefer to acclimate herself. Is this why Geralt hates portals so much? She feels rather like the world has flipped inside out and upside down.

“We’re at a safe house.” Triss says, after giving Yennefer time to calm her roiling stomach. “No one knows of it.”

Yennefer tries to speak, fails to make more than a croaking noise, then thinks: _you suspect something?_

Triss sighs, and Yennefer is suddenly reminded that they are far older than humans are meant to be. She moves around the room like she’s gathering things and Yennefer wonders what this safe house, this place that Triss has set aside just for herself, looks like.

“I know it’s something we were raised to do, but I truly do not trust the Brotherhood. And by association, I can’t trust Aretuza either.” There is the sound of chopping; Triss was always good at potions.

 _But you trust me?_ Yennefer doesn’t mean to let the thought slip, but it does and then it’s too late to take back.

Triss goes still, the rhythmic sound of the knife hitting a cutting board pausing. “Of course I do,” she says.

 _Dangerous_ , Yennefer can’t help but think.

“I have something for your throat,” Triss says, and she’s kneeling beside Yennefer again, easing her into a more upright position. When did that happen? “I’ll help you drink, then see to your hands.”

 _My hands?_ Yennefer tries to flex her fingers and is engulfed by sudden agony.

Triss catches her wrists, stopping her from moving her hands anymore. “The shock is probably wearing off. Drink this.”

There is a press of a bottle against her lips and Yennefer swallows the bitter liquid.

“Fuck,” she rasps, screwing up her face. “What was in that?” Her voice is ragged, but it works.

“You probably don’t want to know,” Triss says, but she sounds relieved. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got trampled by a wyvern.” The numbness Yennefer felt before is now stripped away, leaving nothing but pain and bone-deep weariness.

Triss hums and there’s a clink of glass, like she’s going through a shelf of vials. “Besides the burns?” she asks.

“I can’t see,” Yennefer admits, reluctantly. “And my,” she stops, trying not to let the panic choke her. “My chaos…”

Fear is not something Yennefer lets herself feel. After being taken to Aretuza, after her ascension, she had buried it deep beneath a confident facade. The fact that she was nearly always the most powerful person in the room helped as well. But now, blind and without the well of power within her, Yennefer feels helpless in a way she hadn’t since she was small.

“You’re exhausted,” Triss says, soothingly. “I’ll get you something to help you sleep.”

Yennefer grits her teeth and curls in on herself, ignoring the pain in her hands and side. Wait. “I think I was stabbed,” she says, hand going to the wound.

“You should be out while I stitch it,” Triss says, returning to her side with another bottle. “At least for my own sanity.”

For a moment Yennefer thinks of refusing, of forcing herself to stay awake through another procedure. But this is Triss and, despite everything, Yennefer trusts her. And if she sleeps, there’s still a chance that she’ll wake, and it will all have been a dream.

“Okay,” she says, and Triss tips another potion into her mouth.

“It’ll take a while to work,” Triss says, apologetic. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She helps Yennefer upright with a steady hand beneath her elbow. The pain in her hands and side seems to fade as she stumbles across the room, until Triss is guiding her down onto a cot.

“Lay down,” Triss says, gentle hands already working the mud- and blood-caked fabric of her dress away from her skin.

“There was a girl...” Yennefer says, feeling herself drifting. She was young, with white-blonde hair, and she was searching. Searching for something.

Triss smooths a hand over Yennefer’s hair. “Sleep, Yenna,” she says, gently.

And Yennefer slips away to the feeling of lips pressed gently to her forehead.

* * *

It is quiet when Yennefer wakes. But this time it isn’t the quiet of a ravaged battlefield.

She’s in a bed, the sheets soft against her skin. Bandages cover her hands and wrap around her midsection. For a moment she wants to return to the embrace of unconsciousness, if only to spare herself from reality a little longer.

“There you are,” Triss says from somewhere close.

Yennefer sighs and opens her eyes.

She can’t see very well, but there are blotches of color now instead of blankness. “How long?” she asks.

“We arrived here last night. It’s just about midday,” Triss says, and the colors nearest Yennefer shift slightly.

Only one day. That is better than Yennefer was expecting. She takes a moment to survey her injuries more closely. Her fingers tingle and her side aches, but it is nothing compared to before. Her sight seems to be getting better the longer she looks, colors resolving into shapes. Still not back to normal, but better.

Then, she steels herself and reaches for her chaos.

For a long moment, there is nothing. Just the echoing emptiness of a dry well. But before Yennefer can panic, she feels a tiny spark. A tiny tendril next to the towering flames she is accustomed to, but it is still there.

Yennefer lets out a slow breath and sinks back against the pillows.

“Thank you,” she says, the words stumbling and awkward on her tongue.

Triss picks up her bandaged hand and holds it gently. “I’m glad I found you,” she says.

And Yennefer remembers another moment, the boat rocking beneath them, _I looked for you_. She remembers the anxiety in Triss’ voice as she called out for her on the battlefield. She remembers the feeling of lips against her forehead as she slipped into unconsciousness.

How it felt like trust and safety and home.

“I’m glad you found me too,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> …and then they go find Ciri.
> 
> Book/game fact check: I know that Triss is literally like thirty (according to the book timelines I looked up? I am confused by when the Striga arc happened on Netflix) and Yen isn’t actually human, but I wanted to convey how TIRED they both are. Also, Triss was badly injured and thought to be dead after the Battle of Sodden Hill. BUT if Netflix can rearrange canon and throw the timeline out the window, then I guess I can too.


End file.
